


Show Me

by Wandervibes28



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 15:43:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16705240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wandervibes28/pseuds/Wandervibes28
Summary: He could go down. He could. Nobody was stopping him, and nobody was calling him either. But would he?





	Show Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story on AO3. Check out my fanfiction page to see other works: Wandervibes28  
> Hope you guys like it :)
> 
> ~ Wandervibes28

He could go down.  

He could.

Nobody was stopping him, and nobody was calling him either.

He could go. Down to his team, who were probably all gathering together right now in his living room, settling in the plush couches and armchairs that he had picked himself to start ‘Movie Night’, a tradition which had spontaneously come to life and routine for every Friday night 

He could go down and join them.

Eat popcorn, share a laugh or two, watch a movie, cuddle up in his couch and with his lover, and make memories.

He could, but _would_ he?

 

 

Hell  **_no._ **

 

That meant facing all of them. All of them. But more especially, one of them: 

 

_Steve._

 

He had never been this angry before. Never been this _hurt_. Steve was, god, his everything, and he hadn’t even spoken to him since the mission. 

He’d admit it, what he’d done, he would, if only Steve would take it back. Try and remove the sting by apologising, hell, even a hug would be okay at this stage. But it had been 3 hours since the fight, and normally they would have made it up in the last 2, so he knew that Steve wasn’t going to apologise anytime soon. 

 

**_“Why did you do that Tony? God, do you not have any sense of responsibility to understand what could happen if you had die-“_ **

 

**_“No shit Cap, it’s like you think I have some weird obsession for sacrificing myself, it’s not like I plan for these things to happen! They just do-“_ **

 

**_“-Like how you always plan to sabotage the team? As if you want us to always fail so you can try and perform some sort of fake self-sacrificing act?!”_ **

 

He’d hoped for it. Wished it would happen. 

 

But he knew it wasn’t going to. 

 

And so there was Tony, standing in the middle of his workshop wearing his classic black doctor sleeves shirts, black hoodie and black jeans as he contemplated his future actions. His feet were firmly planted, their soles digging into the tiles below, yet shaking with hesitation. 

 

If he’ll go down, that’ll mean only one thing. 

 

He’ll have to _apologise_. 

 

_Apologise._

 

Tony scoffed out loud in the room just at the thought, causing Dum-E, You, and Butterfingers to whir at him quizzically. 

 

“What’re you looking at? Get on with your work! Shoo!” the genius called out to his robots as he swatted his hands in the air, the gesture being recognised as the robots motors clicked on and they moved away, a small smirk simultaneously being formed on Tony’s face as he watched them disappear. 

 

He couldn’t apologise. 

 

Not after what Steve had said. 

 

He remembered how his captain has looked regretful himself right after saying it, but hadn’t taken it back or anything besides staring into his eyes with hurt for a couple of seconds before walking out of his workshop. 

Tony knew he should have waited for some other way to sabotage Loki’s plan. 

 

Agreed, that diving headfirst to hit someone to the ground while falling from 100 feet in the air as a distraction was probably the stupidest thing he’d done yet. 

 

But he couldn’t have waited. _Couldn’t_ have. 

 

Because then one of them could have gotten hurt. 

 

They would probably have taken the reins if Tony had let go, which was normally fine. But then, Bruce could have been forced back into his normal form, Clint or Nat could have gotten hit with his ‘controlling’ spell again, Thor wasn’t there so it didn’t matter, and _Steve_ ….

 

_Steve_ could have gotten flung across the city. 

 

He could have gotten _hurt_. Could’ve **_died_**.

 

And Tony wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself for that. 

 

And so he had dived, ignoring the shouting through the comms as he tackled Loki to the ground, dragging him against the concrete floor as it cracked with the power of the fall. 

 

But it wasn’t _really_ bad. 

 

He only had gotten a broken wrist, one cracked rib a sprained ankle, a concussion, and some other minor injuries, all of which he had gotten medication for just a few hours after the fall. Plus, he could survive with that, and he didn’t need any medical assistance, so he was practically normal. 

 

It wasn’t bad. 

 

Yet he’d yelled at him, and Tony had yelled back. 

 

He knew he should have told the real reason, he should have let them know what he was actually thinking before taking the fall. 

 

But whenever he gathered the courage to say it, he’d feel like his stomach dropped into his liver and his chest tightened like it was in a vice, so much so that he would start to breathe heavily. 

 

And so he had screamed out insults to distract his hesitation and true reasoning, which only made Steve angrier who had started to scream out patriotic one-liners and some ’40’s quotes which were made for the war. 

 

But it ended as quickly as it had started, with Steve saying what he’d said, and Tony not being able to reply, his mouth opening and closing without saying any words, as he felt his face strain in hurt before he had turned around and started working on some random project nearby to distract himself and Steve. 

 

And it had worked. Steve had turned around, his hurtful gaze washing away as he walked out of the lab, and Tony could finally breathe properly. 

 

And so it brought him back to him standing in the workshop. 

 

He could go down. 

 

He _could_. 

 

It was his choice. He could make the decision. 

 

But would he? 

 

Would he go down to the people who had thrown insults at him or to his **_family_** , who would forget his mistakes and move on?

 

Would he go down to be **_accepted_** or to be sent out because of his ‘selfish’ actions? 

 

Would he go down and apologise or **_get an apology_**?

 

He could have stayed here. 

 

He could have turned around and started to work on his new type of repulser blast, the ‘Sonic beam’ project and could have spent the whole night surviving on coffee and the company of his electronics. He could have ignored his teammates until they gave up and apologised. 

 

He could have. But he **_didn’t_**. 

 

Feet suddenly moving with determination, plating firmly with every step, he walked out of the sliding door, the imagined familiar muted _whoosh_ of the glass filling confidence in him as he walked outside into the hallway, lights into the workshop dimming and fading into the soft yellow LED lights which lit up the corridor. 

 

He walked towards the elevator and entered in, J.A.R.V.I.S silently taking him down towards the living ‘room’ floor without any command, and the floor button lighting up instead of the announcement which usually greeted him each time. 

 

Tony chuckled. J.A.R.V.I.S knew him too well. 

 

Cared about him too much to read up his medical diagnosis after the mission.

 

He looked up to the nearest camera and mouthed a ‘Thank you’. 

 

The smile went away from his face as the elevator doors opened to reveal the dimly lit corridor which greeted his eyes. He stepped out, his sprained foot hitting the plush carpet-padded hallway floor as he walked a step before stopping. 

 

Did he want to do this? 

 

It wasn’t like he had only one choice.

 

He _could_ go back up. He _could_ go to his team. 

 

Inhaling a deep breath, his racing mind relaxing down as his rapid heart-beat slowed down, he turned to his left and quietly started to make his way down the corridor. 

 

He walked in silence, leaving no thought in his brain, focusing on the increasing brightness of the room as he stepped the last few steps before he reached the main turn, where the hallway merged to the living room on the right. 

 

Stopping just before they were in his view, the wall blocking him from seeing and them from seeing him, Tony froze in his tracks, hesitation running through him for a second time, understanding and realising what lay in the room on his right-hand side, behind the wall. 

 

The team.

 

_They_ were right there. 

 

**_The team_** was right there. They were right around the corner-

 

-No…

 

They were _right_ there.

 

They were **_right_** around the corner.

 

His team…his _family_ was right around the corner. Just there.

 

Tony shook his head, confused as to why this was such a big deal for him, before he sucked in a deep breath through his mouth. Confidence surged through him as he remembered that it was _his_ tower. _He_ had made it. He could control whatever happened inside. 

 

More importantly, he could control **_who_** lived inside. 

 

And so at that moment, he decided that it wasn’t Tony who owned the tower. 

 

It was **_Stark_** _._ He was a _Stark_. 

 

And a Stark wouldn’t shy down an honest challenge. From the truth.

 

He felt himself tense up just the right amount before he sighed and quietly turned into the living room, eyes widening just a bit at finding what he didn’t expect to find, before returning to their original state at the realisation.

 

It was silent. 

 

Completely pin-drop silent as brown eyes discovered the silhouette of the team sitting in their various positions in the living room, no sound coming from the T.V, default subtitles playing with the rapid shifts in the brightness of the T.V, plunging and bringing the room out of the darkness as each shot in the movie shifted. No huffs of breathing that he normally encountered. 

 

Just silence. 

 

Tony knew what was happening. 

 

He didn’t need to ask or listen to understand the situation he was now in.

 

They were avoiding him. 

 

He sighed, before taking his chances and walking down the back-side of the central couch, watching as the silhouettes grew larger and more detailed. The mechanic simply wedged himself through the tiny gap between the right-hand side of the central couch and the couch facing the right-hand side of the enormous glass coffee table.

 

He didn’t look around, not wanting to look at their faces of disappointment and anger. 

 

Instead, Tony sank down into his seat, the right-hand side of the central couch and looked up at the gigantic T.V which greeted his eyes. 

 

The movie was ‘Back to the Future 2’. They were going through the series, starting with the first during their last movie night. 

 

He usually would have pointed out the complete idoticness of picking a movie with practically no moral science value added to the plot, but decided to keep his mind shut as he simply watched the scene of Marty going back in time to save himself during the high-school prom or whatever it was. 

 

But Tony couldn’t focus. 

 

He hadn’t looked at any of his team members. He didn’t know where everyone was sitting. Didn’t bother to check after acknowledging that they were there. 

 

He knew what he would face if he did. 

 

So he didn’t. 

 

He didn’t want to know where they were and how they were even though he cared. Because they would just blame it all on him and call him ‘Selfish’ and he wouldn’t be able to say what he wanted to say. 

 

But he needed to. 

 

He needed to tell them why he did it, because otherwise they would never forgive him and he would practically be forever alone again. He needed to tell them even if they decided never to accept his apology, or if they left him alone in the tower, or kicked him out of the Avengers because he-

 

….-He _needed_ to. 

 

And so without deciding to, without thinking or analysing or deciding his actions, his heart rate accelerated and he felt his chest tightening and he knew what was going to happen, but he couldn’t stop it and before he knew it he-

 

**_“I know you’re angry.”_ **

 

He blurted out, head facing his feet as he looked up to the T.V. to find the movie paused, the characters not moving in the story as they looked back at him. Stuck in time. 

 

He knew they were listening. 

 

He didn’t need to see or hear or ask to feel it. He had their attention. 

 

He knew it. 

 

And so he did the thing that he felt he needed to do ever since the beginning of this stupid fight:

 

**_“I know you’re probably thinking I’m the stupidest, most idiotic person in the whole world right now for even thinking about doing what I did before, of course, doing it. And I agree! You guys were-….-you guys were right…”_ **

 

He stopped for a moment before catching his breath and continuing, not engaging in eye contact and looking down at the coffee table again:

 

**_“…But I had to do it. I couldn’t…..not….I mean-…I overthink everything. You guys know that, because you told me. But then when I expect the worst out of every situation; how Clint and Nat could have ended up getting controlled and do things they don’t want to by Loki, and how Bruce could have gotten hurt and how you all could have been in trouble because I didn’t do something…”_ **

 

Tony trailed off for a minute as he gathered his thoughts and took deep breaths to relax before continuing:

 

**_“…I couldn’t think about anything else…..can’t…”_ **

 

He stopped again as he closed his eyes and took in a shuddering breath against the tightening of his chest, telling himself to not reveal his inner feelings because he would get betrayed again. 

 

He would trust and they would stomp all over him again. 

 

Like how everyone did. 

 

But as his mind stopped overthinking and his heart slowed down with the exhale of the deep inhale which greeted his lungs, he felt….that it wasn’t going to happen. 

 

That he could trust them. He felt… ** _weird_** …

 

But he felt he could tell them. He _had_ to, if he wanted them to understand his side of the story. 

 

And so he did:

 

**_“….My mind just doesn’t work how it normally does and I can’t think about doing anything else-….-than just saving you guys because I can’t watch you die agai-….I wouldn’t be able to be myself if that happened because you guys-…..-made me who I am today. And no that’s not cliche stuff because it’s a fact. And fact’s don’t goddamn change, so here I am saying it right to you.”_ **

 

He stopped.

 

But when he found no return or answer, he started again, his voice dipping lower and becoming more serious yet quite at the same time, not realising that he was slowly sinking more and more into the couch:

 

**_“….I know what I did wasn’t right. I should have waited for orders or asked before doing anything like how I did….But I didn’t know what else to do and that seemed like the most, albeit really stupid, do-able idea….and so I had to do it…even though it made no sense….and I’m sorry for doing it……but I probably wouldn’t be able to stop myself from doing it again and I don’t regret that…..”_ **

 

Tony rambled off before stopping, brown eyes closed, feet dangling off the couch as he realised he had stuck himself towards the tiny crevice in between the back and the side of the plush couch. 

 

But he pushed that aside and waited. 

 

For _the anger._

 

_The blame._

 

The verbal abuse which was bound to come after his stupid behaviour. 

 

Because he deserved it. 

 

After he had willing thrown himself on the line for the stupidest reason.

 

But it never did. 

 

Instead, he felt strong arms pull him up from his lying position on the couch to help him sit against the cushions, Tony suddenly feeling the pain of the cracked rib run through his left side, as he covered it with his broken right hand instinctually. They stayed there, and Tony opened his eyes hesitantly, squinting them slowly open as he saw Steve with tears in his eyes, pain and happiness both reflecting in his soul as he gave the brunette a sad, yet equally happy smile. 

 

He didn’t have time to say anything else to his soldier before he was pulled into a tight embrace, Steve not letting go for even one second. 

 

Tony, who was very confused, didn’t say anything. 

 

Didn’t hear anything. 

 

Didn’t need to listen or ask to suddenly understand what was going on as he noticed each of his team members staring at him with the same pain and joy in their eyes as he had seen in Steve’s.

 

The genius simply smirked as the blonde didn’t let go, hugging him tightly as Tony felt small tremors of sobbing wrack Steve's body for a few moments before stopping completely. 

 

Steve pulled back and placed his hands on Tony’s face as he started to talk words with probably some emotional value. 

 

But Tony didn’t listen. 

 

Didn’t need to listen, because from simply the look in Steve’s eyes as he talked to him, and the warm feeling fuzzing inside of him, he knew everything would be okay. 

 

Everything would work out. It would be okay.

 

Before even noticing, Steve had leant back onto the left side of the couch, pulling his everything alongside him, voluntarily offering himself as a full body pillow to the brunette, which Tony appreciated when he realised the sudden support on his cracked rib, sprained ankle, and broken arm, providing instant relief to his aching body.

 

Tony tilted his head to the left to meet ocean blue eyes and a wide smile to quickly return a small smile back, before turning to watch the movie, chuckling slightly when feeling the strong arms supporting him again as he laid down on the couch, surrounded by the people he loved most. 

 

His family. 

 

Tony smiled, stuck in his thoughts as he felt a sort of sense of home in this crazy little world of his. 

 

How he’d never felt this feeling before. Not even with his true family, and tried to wonder why, but didn’t seem to care.

 

His eyes suddenly drifted up towards the T.V as Clint came into view and seemed to talk to everyone about picking a movie, and he looked around to see the various other dialogues return back towards the archer, feeling the rumble of Steves’s chest as he understood the familiar ‘Tony’ and ‘Yes’. 

 

Tony didn’t feel the need to listen. To talk. 

 

He was just happy they were with him, and he wasn’t alone, and he’d made up with Steve and his family was back to the way they were meant to be-

 

-The genius brought himself out of his thoughts before noticing the crouched figure in front of him. 

 

Clint gave a lopsided smile to the genius. The archer was like his stupid younger brother, and the genius sometimes hated him to the guts and sometimes was really grateful that he hadn’t accidentally killed him yet. He was sure the archer felt the same way, especially after that whole ‘Merida’ incident and how Tony could have nearly gotten killed. 

 

Tony simply rolled his eyes before replying with a big smirk, “What’s the matter Bird-brain?”, to which he saw the other man chuckle. 

 

He didn’t really want to pay attention as Clint lifted up his hands and he knew he had vowed to listen, but he didn’t really feel like. 

 

Well, that was before Clint didn’t give him a choice:

 

Tony watched and deciphered each word as Clint used hand signs to give the poor genius some context of the conversation:

 

**_Inception? / Movie? / Shell- / Head? /_ **

 

“Oh shut up feather-ass” the genius laughed out as he simultaneously whacked the archer playfully on the shoulder before going serious and nodding his thanks. 

 

Clint smiled and mouthed “Terminator-ripoff” before running back to his seat, managing to escape the genius’s incoming swinging arm by jumping over it.

 

Tony could only grin ear-to-ear as the movie started, subtitles flickering in the bottom of the screen for their genius to be able to watch the movie, should he choose to. 

 

Normally, he would have fallen asleep, unless it was a Pixar or Star Wars movie, because honestly the rest of them were just movies with plot-holes and because he liked them considerably more than other movies. 

 

But something about this movie…this **_night_** ….felt right. 

 

Like he felt the need to be awake. 

 

He needed to be able to see the constant change in brightness as the scenes shifted. 

 

He needed to see his team, sitting in various places during the movie, all conversing in anger or shock about parts of the scenes, munching on popcorn as they talked and spent time together as a family. 

 

He needed to see Bruce sipping tea quietly on the carpet floor, Thor opening another box of his favourite pop-tarts, Natasha and Clint arguing heavily about something, pointing various times to the screen and swatting each other occasionally. 

 

He needed to be able to feel Steve’s breathing behind him, the rumbles echoing through his chest as he conversed with the team and seemingly talked to him about parts of the movie, the strong arms holding him and subsequently morphing into a sort of caress. 

 

He also needed to watch because it was funny, watching his team with the ‘mute button’ to find each one of them making the weirdest faces that you don’t notice during conversations, causing Tony to laugh randomly during parts of the movie, resulting in Steve simply smiling and holding him tighter, clearly saying something, but Tony didn’t need to care because he knew he was fine there. 

 

But mostly he stayed awake because he felt a sort of new connection to his family, and he needed to smile and watch them… ** _be a family_** for a few hours on the night he loved the most to be present with them.

 

Plus, he could probably slip out and get coffee sometime during the movie, right?

* * *

 


End file.
